


Heat of the Moment

by LadyMuzzMuzz



Series: Adventures with the Man in Red [3]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: F/M, M/M, Slight mentions of blood, Valentine's Day Special!, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:00:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMuzzMuzz/pseuds/LadyMuzzMuzz
Summary: You have a tendency to run your mouth, and to do things without thinking.  And it may have led you into some hot water.  All you wanted was some late night pizza, and now you're gonna be sacrificed to a demon....what a way to go.
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Dante (Devil May Cry)/You
Series: Adventures with the Man in Red [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638046
Comments: 9
Kudos: 37





	Heat of the Moment

Your mom had always told everyone, in a disapproving tone, that you were too impulsive for your own good. You darted into the road to get a runaway ball. You bought that awesome looking jacket, without checking to see if it was on sale. And now, because you were craving pizza, and didn’t want to shell out the four bucks extra for delivery, you were in a mighty fine pickle.

You decided that taking the deserted looking street at near midnight, just to shave a few minutes off your walk to Angelo’s Pizzeria was a perfectly splendid idea. So splendid, you didn’t notice the shadowy figures following you, until you were grabbed from behind, and a cloth covered with some sort of chemical was placed over your screaming mouth.

So now, here you stood, or rather...laid, on cold grey stone, that seemed to leech all warmth away from your flesh. It was still dark, but illuminated by torches, you seemed to be surrounded by columns of stone, like you were in some knock off kid sized version of Stonehenge. You immediately attempted to get up, only to find to your irritation, your wrists and ankles were bound by industrial grade chains. 

“The offering has awoken!” called out a woman’s voice, and from the darkness, like the damn Ringwraiths from Lord of the Rings, nine cloaked figures came out of the darkness. You tried to make out their faces, but both their pitch black cloaks, and blood red masks hid everything about them.

“Brothers and Sisters, we are gathered here tonight to call forth from the very bones of the earth, a power far greater than any human can imagine. The stars have aligned, the incense has been lit. All now,” she motioned to the cultist beside her, who handed her a leatherbound book, “Is to speak the incantations, and complete the rituals.”

And then, with the help of her assistant, the group began to chant. You had no idea of what was being spoken, but it sounded Latin. 

“Really... Latin? Guys, there are a tonne of other languages you could use! What happened to originality?!” you grumbled, but while you could feel their glares, none stopped their inane chants

Upon each pillar, a letter lit up, one at a time. You couldn’t recognize the script, but it looked like a five year old’s attempt to write Hebrew. For some reason, that irked you. This makes no sense. _Latin is an Indo-European language, and Hebrew is a totally different family! These idiots are mixing everything up!._

But the incantation seemed to do the trick, and the flames grew, and changed to a sickly green colour. And now, all these cultists raised their arms in exultation 

“Lord of the Underworld, we present you this offering, a Virgin Offering, for you to consume!” The lead cultist chanted.

“Wait!” you blurted out, in a desperate attempt to avert your fate, “I’m not a virgin! I’ve had sex before, dozens...no, hundreds of times!”

Her assistant leaned over you, their mask barely concealing his skepticism.

“Name one person you have laid with,” he tested.

“Well…” Your mind was blank, and so you went with the first thing that shot through your brain.

“Your mom, for starters.”

You could have slapped yourself for such a dumb comeback, had your wrists not being tied up, but you needn’t have worried about not getting slapped. The cultist’s lips twisted into a snarl, and you felt white hot pain radiating from your cheek, and the taste of blood filling your mouth. Even though it hurt like hell, one part of you was mentally high fiving at that comeback. His hand raised up one more time, to give another strike, but the leader quickly grabbed his wrist.

“Calm yourself, brother… the offering must remain undamaged. Besides,” and you could swear you heard a smirk in her voice, “It’s not their body that must be virginal, it’s the blood.”

_Well shit_ , you thought, as you placed your burning cheek against the cool stone to relieve the pain. 

The ritual continued. “We humble servants provide both the firstfruits of this offering to open the way.” The woman took out a jet black dagger, and approached you with steady steps. Would she cut out your heart, Temple of Doom style? Rip out your entrails? Slit your throat? All you could hope was that it would be quick and painless. 

What you hadn’t expected was for her to grab one of your restrained hands and with surprisingly gentleness placed the edge of the obsidian blades against your palm.

As she dragged the razor sharp edge, a line of crimson bloomed, like a trail of bubbles. It almost didn’t hurt, but you couldn’t help but get upset. All this pomp and ceremony, and they were just giving you a cut that would irritate you for weeks...if you lived that long. _Whatever happens_ , you said as the cultist began using your blood to paint the two largest stone pillars, in a perverse parody of the Passover ritual, _I hope whatever these bastards are summoning crushes them._

“ **COME FORTH!”** The whole group chanted in unison, “ **Taste the blood… DEVOUR THE FLESH!”**

And without warning, the blood...YOUR blood, burst into flame, racing up the pillars as if gasoline had been pumping through your veins. At the top, the flames connected and formed a gateway...a hellgate. And within it, an orb, an inferno expanded...and a roar that sounded nothing like any earthbound animal emanated.

And then, an explosion of heat and sulfur knocked down the stones, and the cultists, sending the leader flying back several feet. Only you, chained to the granite altar, remained in place.

You squinted as the searing light dissipated. Among the now dying flames stood, or hovered… a demonic sight. You could swear you saw the air distort from the heat that seemed to generate from within his chest. Four leathery wings splayed out, the inner skin swirling designs constantly shifting, almost hypnotising. And the horns! A good foot long that curved and twisted, glowing like charred wood both above and around his face. A face that reminded what was in front of you. A demon. Teeth as long and sharp as paring knives, eyes glowing like the pits of hell. As if Satan himself had come up from the depths. And for all you knew… he probably had.

You heard the sound of crumpled paper. _**“Oh man,”**_ the demon rumbled, his voice distorted by the sound of the exhaust coming from between his teeth, _ **“I was just getting to the good part…”**_

“Oh Great and Powerful Lord…” the devil stared at the surrounding area, at the the cultists that had recovered began following their leader’s motions and bowed prostrate on the ground, and you still chained. It was hard to make out his expression, but it seemed like...surprise?

“We are your most humble servants,” the leader continued, “All we ask...is a scrap of your power...a trifle for one such as you, as payment for summoning you..My Lord?”

The demon didn’t even spare a second glance as he strode past her, past the other shrouded forms, and made a beeline towards you. This was it, you thought, time to come up with a witty parting remark. But of course, your impulsive nature wouldn’t cooperate right now. At least the demon seemed to be the ‘fire and fury’ style, he would probably consume you quickly.

He towered over you, and even now, the stone, which had been ice cold the entire time, began to heat up beneath you...sweat, both from terror, and the inferno looming above you, beaded on your forehead. 

“My Lord?” the assistant asked, “Is the offering suitable for your arrival? They have a wicked tongue, but they are perfect for summoning.

_**“I think you got it all wrong buddy,”**_ the demon turned his eyes on the unholy congregation, and strangely, a chill appeared in the air, “You guys didn’t summon me….” A razor claw extended out and pointed at you, _**“THEY did… and if they summoned me…”**_ the cultists slowly became aware of what he was implying, the quicker ones started making a run for it, “ _ **YOU guys must be the offering! Who’s volunteering first?”**_

The answer was nine sets of panicking feet trying to sprint out of the stone circle. The demon glanced back at you, “You might want to cover your eyes for this, it’s gonna get a little messy,” and with the speed of a racing forest fire, he charged, blades of superheated air swirling around him. 

The scream of the lead cultist was enough for you to clench your eyes shut, and then followed by a multiple of cries of terror and death, as the coppery scent of blood, not your own this time, scented the air.

A few minutes later, there was nothing but silence, except the sound of boots on gravel. You couldn’t help it, you took a peek.

Instead of the cultists, or the demon, there was just a guy, shaggy white haired, with a worn t-shirt that clung juuuuust right against his broad chest, and a smile on his face. You looked around, trying to find either a surviving cultist, or the demon, but all you could see in the darkness were void black shapes, lying on the grounds, their robes moving slightly in the breeze.

“That can’t be comfortable, let’s get you out of there,” the man said, and without a hint of effort, he gently grasped your hands, and with the other, he gave a quick yank. Immediately the sound of snapping metal, and to your amazement, your arms were free. And if you had thought he had done a sleight of hand with those chains, the way he effortlessly ripped the chains around your ankles off immediately clued you in that this man was more than he seemed.

You rubbed your wrists as you slowly sat up, staring at him. “Who are...you?”

“Ah, yeah...forgot to introduce myself in the whole hubbub. Cultists always ruining get togethers.” He stuck out his hand, “Name’s Dante.” And as you shook his hand, with your uninjured one, you noticed that for a brief moment, his eyes momentarily glowed red, like embers. Embers that had once been blazing coals.

He must have seen the flash of panic in your eyes, because he backed away, his hands raised in surrender. 

“Don’t worry! I ain’t going to hurt you… yeah, I’m the demon those jackasses called for” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “but I’m not the **‘MUST RULE THE WORLD’** type, I usually am the one people call to get rid of what was being summoned, not actually BEING the ‘sommonee.’ Wait, is that the correct term?” He paused for a moment to think it over, before he seemed to come back to the present. “Anyways, I was just relaxing in my office, reading a magazine, and then **POOF** , I’m in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by people with horrible sense of fashion. Speaking of my magazine...where did I put it?”

You saw the magazine, its pages fluttering in the wind, and picked it up. A copy of _‘Half Cocked’_ , and on its cover, a buxom young brunette was getting a bit too friendly with a revolver, alongside a well toned man wearing little more than a bandolier.

“Oh thanks!… that” he quickly snatched it out of your hands, “I read it mainly for the articles…” he explained lamely, before hurriedly shoving it in his back pocket, as he looked you up and down. “Besides...I got a feeling I won’t need it much anymore…” And in the flaming remnants of ritual, you swore you saw him turn a shade of pink...although that could just be the fire.

“Welp,” He stretched, “You ready to blow this popsicle stand? All that work made me famished.”

You had no idea where the hell you were, but you were still ravenously hungry. Which reminded you how you got into this mess in the first place.

“I could go for some pizza or-”

You felt a blaze of warmth, and suddenly you felt your legs swept under you, and you looked up at Dante, now back to his demonic form carrying you bridal style. But no longer did it strike fear in you, just a sense of awe...and admiration

_**“You truly know how to get to this demon’s heart,**_ ” he practically purred, and with a slight grunt, he leapt up and started flying towards the nearest collection of lights on the horizon. _**“Pizza it is, then!”**_

Despite the remnant of chill from spending God knows how long on that stone, and the brisk breeze of the upper atmosphere blowing past you, you didn’t feel a little bit cold. It was like being held by a flying furnace.

“You know Dante….” you spoke, barely audible above the wind.

“Hm?”

“You’re pretty hot.” Instantly, you realized what you had said, and would have preferred him to just drop you to your death at this very moment.

You heard him chuckle.

_**“Yeah, this form runs a bit warm….”** _

And even though he didn’t say it, you were almost certain he knew exactly what you meant.


End file.
